How I Came To Be Yours
by Zofie C. Field
Summary: The first step along the road between them.
1. Chapter 1

_Note: None of these characters are mine_

* * *

><p><strong>How I Came To Be Yours<br>**

"Kate? Kate, sweetie, you have to wake up."

Kate grumbled, and shifted away from the hand that was shaking her shoulder. She kept her eyes shut trying to hold onto the dream she'd been having.

"Kate, I'm serious. You're going to be late."

"Two more minutes, Mom."

"Oh, Kate, honey."

Kate's eyes popped open. She found herself staring up at her college roommate and the last three weeks came rushing back to her.

"Sweetie, if you miss another class, they'll fail you. And if you fail these classes, you'll never graduate on time. Come on, get up." Her roommate left the room quietly, clicking the door shut behind her.

Kate rubbed her face with her hands, not surprised to find her cheeks wet with tears. She'd been doing that a lot lately, crying in her sleep. She threw off her blankets, but made no move to climb out of the bed.

She really shouldn't be back here. Not yet. Maybe not ever. College, which she'd taken so much joy in, had lost all of its appeal. It had only been three weeks since they'd come home to the officers on the doorstep; three weeks since her life had ground to a halt. She didn't want to be here, among her carefree peers, but it was this or home, where her father was drowning his sorrows. She was falling apart. She couldn't sit around to watch him fall apart too.

"I'm serious, Kate," the holler from the hallway broke into her thoughts. "Don't think I won't drag you out of that bed!"

She groaned, but tossed her legs over the side of the bed and thumped to the floor, loud enough to assure her (incredibly patient) roommate that she was up and moving. She heard the apartment door click, signaling that she was finally alone.

Not bothering to find slippers, she padded barefoot out of the room and into the kitchen to start the coffeemaker. Until a month ago, she hadn't been a coffee drinker. A sip here and there, maybe, but tea had been her preference. Now, the caffeine was the only thing dragging her through each long, empty day.

Pouring a mug of the black sludge, she wandered back into her room, glancing at the stack of textbooks on her desk. She'd been toying with the idea of committing to a major in contemporary English and Russian fiction, but now the idea struck her as hopelessly naive. Reading novels for four years while her mother was lifeless, tucked away six feet under. Childish, all of this, really. Playing the schoolgirl part when any moment your life could be ripped to pieces.

She knew she couldn't stay here today. Her roommate, well meaning as she was, had threatened to call the school counselor and the campus ministry offices if she spent one more day like she'd been doing (staring at the ceiling, blank-faced). She was pretty sure that, faced with a counselor, she'd lose it. Not let-me-bare-my-deep-dark-secrets-to-you lose it, but screw-school-I'm-going-to-go-find-something-reckless-to-do lose it. And, well, someone in the family had to keep some semblance of a life going. Apparently that job had fallen to her.

Digging through the pile of clothes on her desk chair, she grabbed a pair of jeans and the first long-sleeved shirt she could find. She got dressed slowly, and pulled the socks she'd worn a few days ago out of the toes of her boots. Grabbing her bag, she headed out of the apartment, only to step outside and find it snowing. Right, it was February. She vaguely considered skipping a coat altogether (a little frostbite never hurt anyone, and she was already numb as it was), but there was no need to draw attention to herself. Sighing, she trudged back up two flights of stairs, and grabbed her coat off the back of the door.

Outside, she set off in the direction that would take her away from campus as quickly as possible. The murder had been big news, and college kids were dumb. Don't they know to leave someone be after something like that? Everyone wanted to talk, everyone wanted to offer comfort. Comfort would suffocate her, or worse, make her cry, which would lead to more comfort. No, that damn vicious circle was better off avoided.

As she left campus, she was pleased to find rush hour was full swing in the city. She hadn't thought to look at a clock before she left. Breathing easier in her anonymity, she melded into the crowd, letting it carry her along wherever it wished.

She walked for a few hours before the cold became unbearable. Glancing around, she spotted a bookstore down the block. Inside, it was warm and bustling, filled with tourists who had stopped in to thaw.

She slipped along the edge of the shelves towards the back of the store, where it was slightly quieter. She stopped in front of a shelf, and, closing her eyes, she selected a book at random. It was something she and her mother had done on countless afternoons, in bookstores like this as well as in front of the bookshelves in their own living room. Kate let the memory slide through her mind unhindered, choosing not to remember that those days were gone forever.

Carrying the book and a cup of coffee from the store's café, she found an obscure, empty isle. She slid to the floor, leaning back against the shelves.

Setting her coffee down next to her, she finally looked at the book she'd chosen. It was a mystery, judging by the cover, which read:

In a Hail of Bullets

Richard Castle

A small round sticker had been stuck on the cover proclaiming "signed by the author!" She flipped the book open to the first page, and saw that it indeed had been signed. On the back cover, the young author's picture smiled up at her. She'd never heard of him before, not surprisingly. Mystery novels didn't appeal to her. She preferred the classics. But the rules of her mother's blind book selection game dictated that you read at least the first ten pages of your selection.

She turned to the beginning of the first chapter and began to read.

"Excuse me miss, may I get you another coffee?"

Kate's head whipped up, startled. An awkward teen in an apron stood above her, no doubt sent out from the café in an attempt to draw more tourists in.

"Um, no, thanks." The kid nodded and walked off.

Kate looked down at the book. She was 150 pages in. Lately, each minute she was forced to endure had plodded by at a painfully slow pace, but 150 pages worth of minutes that had just slipped by without her noticing. Taking a sip of her now very cold coffee, she turned to page 151 and resumed reading.

Two hours later, she read the last sentence. As she closed the book, she found her eyes tearing up. The relief of the last three hours had been enormous, and now it was over. Back to the reality of her life that had been smashed to pieces so small she'd never fit them back together again.

Using the bookshelf as leverage, she stood, feeling her joints creak from sitting on the floor for so long. She made her way back to the mystery section to put the book back in its place.

As she slipped the book back onto the shelf amongst the other Cs, something caught her eye. Next to her book was another by the same author. She pulled it off the shelf and checked the back cover, just to make sure her eyes weren't fooling her. The same young face stared back up at her.

Taking the book, she turned to head towards the cash registers, but as she reached the end of the row she paused. After a moment, she walked back down the row and snatched _In a Hail of Bullets_ off the shelf as well. It might just become a favorite.

She stood in the queue for the cashier for a few moments, thumbing through the next novel while she waited.

"Next?"

Kate stepped up to the smiling old woman behind the desk and passed her the two books.

"Ah, yes, Richard Castle. Quite the up and coming young man."

Kate just nodded, digging in her bag for her wallet. Small talk really wasn't her thing lately.

"Will you be coming to his signing on Saturday?"

This caught Kate's attention. "Signing?"

"Yes, dear." The woman gestured towards a large sign posted near the door. "He'll be doing a reading here and then signing copies of his third novel. It comes out the same day."

A smile slipped its way onto Kate's face. It was the very first smile she'd smiled in weeks, and it took her by surprise.

"Um, yes. Yes. I'll be there."

The woman smiled back at her, and handed her books over the counter, as well as a small flyer for Saturday's event.

As Kate wandered back towards campus, she didn't feel the cold, despite the heavily falling snow. The flyer she'd stuck in her pocket seemed to be giving off some sort of gently radiating heat. A tiny spark of hope that might just thaw through the numbness that had taken hold.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading!<em>


	2. Chapter 2

We're probably looking at a three-shot here.

_Note: None of these characters are mine._

* * *

><p><strong>How I Came To Be Yours – Chapter 2<strong>

By the end of the week, Kate had finished the second novel and then had read them both twice more. They made time pass quickly, which was more than she could say of anything else.

She'd almost gone to one of her classes on Tuesday, but had ended up curled up in the library stacks instead. Thursday she tried again and had managed to stay in her seat for a full 35 minutes before bolting. Baby steps, she figured.

She was excited about Saturday, about the prospect of a new novel to pour her time into. The feeling was incongruous with everything else in her life at the moment. Early in the week, in a fit of mourning, she'd talked herself out of the excitement. Excitement had no place in the real world. The real world was cruel. But by midweek, the anticipation had crept back in, and she found that she had missed it. So she let it stay.

Saturday came. Kate woke up early, and showered in warm water for the first time in a while. She brushed out her hair and dressed in clean clothes. She even ate the PB&J her roommate had left on the counter with a note reading, "EAT THIS!" She grabbed her bag, and both of the books, and headed out.

It was a long walk to the bookstore through the snow, and Kate arrived just as the reading was about to start. She stepped inside and stopped dead in her tracks. The main floor of the bookstore was packed with women, some only in their teens, some well past middle age. All were swarming around, talking excitedly.

What had she been thinking? She couldn't do this. Sitting in this crowded room full of semi-crazed women? Hell no. Just the thought made her claustrophobic. A few women brushed past her, jostling her, and a wave of panic seized her.

Kate turned quickly to leave, and slammed face first into something rather broad. And firm. And very un-middle-aged-woman-like.

"Whoa there killer. Where's the fire?" The man she'd run into reached out to steady her before she toppled over.

Kate looked up at the source of the deep voice and found herself face to face with Richard Castle himself. He grinned at her, and she opened her mouth to stammer something, but a loud announcement from the other end of the room drowned her out.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Mr. Richard Castle has arrived. Please give him a warm welcome."

The room broke into applause and a healthy handful of high pitched squeals. Richard Castle squeezed Kate's shoulder and then walked past her towards the front of the room, waving and smiling at the crowd.

Kate watched him walk away. The crowd pushed closer towards the front of the room, giving her a little space. She took a deep breath, and snuck off around the edge of the room. She found herself in the same deserted isle she'd occupied earlier in the week, so she sat and curled her legs underneath her, settling her bag and her books on the floor next to her.

"Thank you all so much for coming," Richard Castle was saying, "It's an honor to be here. I'm going to read a passage from my third novel, _Kissed and Killed." _

_God, he's got a great voice. _She rested her head on the shelf behind her, and closed her eyes, letting herself get lost in his words.

Kate suddenly became aware of giggling above her. "Quiet, Alexis! You'll wake her," a familiar voice chided gently.

Her eyes snapped open just in time to see a flash of red hair disappear around the end of the row.

Kate rubbed her eyes, and looked around. The store was mostly empty now; the crowd of women had completely disappeared. Confused, she checked her watch. She'd been asleep for two hours. Apparently it wasn't just the books that made time fly. The man himself had that ability as well.

Glancing down, she saw that her small stack of books had grown. On top of the two novels she'd carried in with her lay a third. She ran her hand over red hardbound volume before picking it up. She glanced around, but whoever had left it was gone.

Flipping open the front cover she found a short handwritten message

_I've never caused a woman to flee in panic AND bored her to sleep in the same day. How flattering!_

_Happy Reading,_

_Rick Castle_

She let out a startled laugh, as her face flushed with embarrassment. It wasn't often she fell asleep in public places, and it _really_ wasn't often she fell asleep while being read to by a very attractive young man. But four weeks without sleeping through the night will do that to you, I suppose.

Getting to her feet, Kate headed towards the front of the store, holding the new book tightly to her chest. She was well aware she probably looked like a little kid with a security blanket, but hell, who was she kidding. That's exactly what she was.

She stepped up to the same elderly woman who she'd spoken with earlier that week, and placed the book on the counter.

"Oh, hello dear! What can I do for you?"

"Um, just the one book, please."

"That one's already been bought and paid for, dear. Spoke with Mr. Castle about it myself."

"Excuse me?"

"He came right on up and said he'd like to purchase a copy for the beautiful young woman asleep in the corner." When Kate looked at her confused, she elaborated in a conspiratorial whisper, "That's you, dear."

"Um, alright. Thanks," Kate said, nodding uncertainly. She picked up the book, placing it on top of the two in her arms, and headed for the door. She glanced back and caught the woman behind the desk smiling at her.

"He's never done that before dear, not in the last two times he's been here, anyway," the woman called after her. Kate tucked her hair nervously behind her ears and smiled back, as she pushed the door open.

_What the hell had just happened?_

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading!<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

_Note: None of these characters are mine. Apologies for the foul language!_

* * *

><p><strong>How I Became Yours – Chapter 3<strong>

Kate pushed the door open, looking down at the stack of books in her arms. Possessing the new book was a relief in itself, but having received it (indirectly) from the author himself made it all the sweeter. She stepped out onto the sidewalk and –

"Shit!" she shouted in surprise as she slammed into someone standing just outside the bookstore. She bent to gather the books, which had fallen from her arms. It was only when she stood that she registered the obstacle in her path – none other than Richard Castle … again. Noticing the tiny redhead who was watching her intently, she clamped her hand over her mouth. "Sorry," she muttered.

"That's quite the dirty mouth you've got there, for such a lovely young woman." He winked at her, and then bent to talk to the little girl. "Alexis, honey, run inside and find your backpack. I think we left it on the chair behind the table." The little girl nodded and ran inside the store.

"Rick Castle. It's so nice to run into you again," he said offering her his hand. His face split into a grin as he chuckled at his own joke. Kate marveled at how the man who wrote such grisly murders could be so much like a child.

"Kate Beckett," she said, shaking his hand.

"And what do you do, Ms. Beckett, that has you so tired you're falling asleep during my _riveting_ performance?" He smiled at her as he said it, and though the words are cocky, he said them unassumingly. She liked him more and more by the minute.

"Um, I'm a student at the university, studying Russian literature at the moment, but I'm not sure if it's for me. Lately the only thing I've been doing is reading your books." She mentally kicks herself for rambling like a fangirl, and for being far too honest with a complete stranger, but he doesn't seem to notice either offense.

"You should ditch the Russians and study contemporary mystery and suspense." He wiggled his eyebrows and she smiled as he continued, "I hear there are some dashing, stunningly interesting authors out there upon whom you could draw inspiration." She laughed and opened her mouth to answer, but suddenly he gasped and grabbed her arm, his face lit up with excitement. "No wait! Even better! If you like this stuff, you should go for the real thing. Quit literature and become a cop! I can see it now: Detective Kate Beckett, badass extraordinaire." He clamped his hand over his mouth when he noticed the little redhead is standing next to him, backpack in hand, staring up at him.

He looked at the little girl, and said, "You didn't hear that."

"Hear what?" she asked, smiling conspiratorially. He winked at her and stood, but she tugged his sleeve and whispered, "We're going to be late for the movie, Daddy."

"Ah, yes. If you'll excuse us Detective Beckett, we've got a date with Disney. It was very nice to meet you."

He offered her his hand again and Kate shook it, smiling. "Nice to meet you as well. Keep writing." She gestured to the stack of books in her arms, "I can only reread these three so many times."

With one last smile, the writer and the redhead walked away. Kate silently congratulated herself for sounding pulled together, considering how hard her knees are shaking. She took a deep breath and leaned against the side of the building closing her eyes.

It had hit her like a ton of bricks the moment the words left his mouth. _Become a cop._ She'd been feeling like she was drowning these last few weeks, with nothing to hold on to and no hope of finding the surface. _Cop_ settled on her like a rubber ducky life preserver and she felt something hopeful and definitely dangerous pop into her mind. _ She would become a cop. She would find and murder the man who stole her mother from her. Maybe, if she found some justice, just maybe, she might learn to breathe again._

* * *

><p>"So, that's the story of how I became yours," Kate said, snuggling further into Castle's chest. "The start of the story, anyway." She looked over her shoulder at him, smiling as she ran her thumb along the new ring gracing her finger. He tightened his arms around her waist and bent his head slightly.<p>

"I knew you the moment I saw you," he whispered. "How could I have forgotten that face?"

Her eyes grew wide and she turned to face him more fully. "You knew? It had been ten years since you'd met me. Why didn't you say anything?"

He ran his fingers through her hair and traced his thumb across her cheekbone.

"Meeting you again, that was the start of the story of how _I_ became _yours_. You grew up so strong in those ten years. So beautiful." He shrugged slightly and the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile as he explained, "I wanted to see where our story would go."

She considered him for a long moment and then nodded. "Okay, okay." She smiled softly and asked, "Anything else you need to tell me?"

He kissed her softly. "I love you. And I'm yours."

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading!<em>


End file.
